


Kingdom Hearts: Red, White, and You

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Category: Batman: The Animated Series, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anal Sex, Bicuriosity, F/M, Facial, Food, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Power Bottom, Sorta Gay Sex?, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: [Batman TAS/Kingdom Hearts Crossover]You and Sora were just planning on hanging out and getting some food. You didn’t expect to run into Harley Quinn...or for your evening to get so pleasantly derailed.





	Kingdom Hearts: Red, White, and You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the commissioner!

  
“Strangest diner _I’ve_ ever been to.”  
  
“Quiet, they’ll hear you!”  
  
Sora hushed you with a whisper, leaning across the table and placing a finger over his lips in a “sssh” motion. The two of you were seated at a window seat in one of the newly opened diners in the city, and you’d been planning this dinner for a few days. Apparently, this new place had one heck of a gimmick.  
  
Namely, that all the staff members were characters from superhero media, or at least dressed as them. Big Barda was your greeter, while Beast Boy ushered you to your table. You thought you could hear something that sounded like Wonder Woman’s voice echoing cooking orders from the kitchen, three rooms away...but that couldn’t _really_ be her, could it?  
  
You rolled your eyes at Sora’s request but complied, cutting off your complaints and busying yourself by running your fingers through your hair. Probably not sanitary in an eatery, but those dark, messy locks weren’t going to settle down without your touch.  
  
Seeing your cooperation, Sora leaned back in his padded seat, rolling his neck and shoulders so hard that you could hear them pop from across the table. If your hair was messy, Sora’s was a tornado of destruction, shooting every which way in chestnut spikes that seemed to defy gravity and proper hair care. Perhaps that was related to the eternal youngness that Sora seemed to radiate: whether it was the softness of his face and gaze, or the toylike quality to the overly complicated zipper and buckle system he used to keep his black-and-red clothing together, Sora didn’t look as if he’d ever get out of the uncomfortable spot between adolescence and the full masculine prime of his life.  
  
He had an august serenity to his features that was more reminiscent of a portrait of an angel, eternally pristine and warm, rather than a marble statue, everlastingly remote and distant in its perfection. The truth, of course, was much more complicated. and Sora had had to assure more than a few traffic officers that, yes, he was actually an adult and could legally drive. You had no such obstacles, though you were unsure if you were happy about that. After all, Sora would _definitely_ age more gracefully than you ever would, if he kept this pattern up. And his eternally-slim build gave him a flexibility and sweeping elegance to his movements that you couldn’t help but find beautiful. Sora made walking seem like a ballet with the lightness of his feet and running appear a smooth glide on the ground, swanlike in his poise and smooth distribution of tension.  
  
The instant the thought crossed your mind, you found yourself blinking furiously, shaking your head to get rid of it. Yes, Sora was a good friend, and attracted more than a few longing stares, but not from you, of course. His sky-blue eyes so closely matched your own, it was hard not to get lost in them. You were alike in spryness and muscle mass, and were merely noting the similarities.  
  
Yeah, that’s all there was to it.  
  
You opened your mouth to try and start a topic of conversation, or just to make another comment, you hadn’t planned that far ahead. Before you could, though, a feminine, slightly nasally voice cut in as two glasses of water slide onto your table.  
  
“Hiya, dolls!”  
  
The voice is coming from a woman who you assume is going to be your waitress for the meal. Recognition immediately dawns on you as to who this person is...or dressed as.  
  
Her skin’s so white that you’d be worried that she’d fallen into a vat of paint if you couldn’t see flushes of blood beneath her skin and a black mask over her eyes, beneath cap-and-bells tipped with white cotton balls. Similarly frilled cuffs wrap around her wrists, the only other spot of white on her person save a pattern woven into her clothing resembling a ruffled collar. Everything else save her ruby-painted lips her was a mirror of jet-black and deep red, perfectly bisecting her suit.  
  
“ _Harley Quinn_?” Sora was the first to speak, although he didn’t sound as shocked as you’d expected him to be. Then again, this was a superhero-themed diner. It’d make sense that there’d be some villains.  
  
Still...Harley Quinn here was a bit unexpected. You’d always had something of a crush on her, and seeing her here, or someone dressed as her sounded a bit too good to be true.  
  
“You betcha! I’m flattered you know ‘bout lil’ ol’ me!” She gave the two of you a large, toothy grin, chewing and pressing her lips on the tip of her pen and drumming her gloved fingers on her notepad. That _has_ to be against the health code…  
  
“So, yeah! I’m yer waitress t’night, doll babies! You got any idea what ya’ll are lookin’ for?”  
  
“Actually-” You begin, but she cuts you off.  
  
“Oh, if’n ya need more time, I can always strut back ‘ere later.” Harley quirks an eyebrow beneath her mask, tilting one side upwards. You try not to visibly flush, and you can see Sora failing at doing exactly that, his cheeks reddening. She had an...interesting vocabulary.  
  
“No, no, I think we’re good! We know what we want! Um, just one question before I order.”  
  
“Shore thing, puddin’! What’s up?”  
  
“Um, are you the _real_ Harley Quinn?” It felt like a stupid question. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t break character, and if she was, how could he tell the difference?  
  
Sora glanced across at you, his face a mixture of embarrassment, confusion and what was probably arousal. Harley merely laughed and bopped you on the nose with her pen. The same part of the pen, you noted, that had just been in her mouth. Which meant that her saliva and lipstick was now on your nose.  
  
The thought didn’t help you concentrate on her answer, even if her swinging hat drew your attention back to her face.  
  
“I dunno how it’d make a difference, but of course, pumpkin’! Why…” She leans in then, whispering to the two of you so loudly that absolutely everyone in the immediate vicinity besides the two of you will be able to hear what’s happening. “I’m actually on an undercover mission! Gotta investigate some suspicious stuff, y’know! For the Bat! Yeah, the otha gigs ‘sall done now, thank ya very much!”  
  
A hundred questions popped into your mind, and Sora’s expression told you that he was wondering the exact same things. But Harley was done answering questions, it seemed.  
  
“Anyways, what can I getcha two handsom’ fellas?”  
  
“Um, I’ll take the stuffed pork sausage and avocado salad. Just water for me.” It’s pretty high-class fare for a _diner_ , but given the staff you’re not really surprised that it’s a cut above the expected menu.  
  
“I’d like a loaded hot dog with the sauteed eggplant slices on the side. And, uh, just water, too.” Sora’s order sounds a little closer to something you might actually hear someone order in a place called a “diner”, but even _that’s_ a bit fancy.  
  
“Oooh! You boys like double stuffing things, dontcha?” Harley grinned, pen dancing across her notepad. “Good ta know. Ooh, and ya both like sausage, sorta!”  
  
Her eyes flicker to Sora, then to you, then back to Sora, and her eyebrows wiggle. The two of you realize her implication immediately.  
  
“We’re not-”  
  
“Um, sorry, I think there’s a misunderstandi-”  
  
“We really don’t-”  
  
“Relaaaaax!” She grins. “I’m jus’ foolin’. I got both ya orders down pat, don’ worry! I’ll be back soon, dolls!”  
  
Your head tilts as she walks past, glued to her sashaying hips and the way her clothing hugs her rear, and you know Sora’s staring with you.  
  
“That was…”  
  
“She’s...strange.”  
  
“Tell me about it.” Sora lets out a breath, relaxing back in his chair and taking a sip of his beverage and puffing a bang out of the way. “And I thought _my_ friends were weird.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Calm down. You know I didn’t mean you.” He gives you a reassuring grin and your cheeks warm, bringing color to the pallor of your skin. Why is he making you feel this way now, of all times?

* * *

  
“I’m back, fellas! Didja miss me?”  
  
You trail off as Harley struts up to your table, each hand bearing a plate containing your food. The smell hits you first: your mouth was already watering in anticipation, but it’s hard to keep from drooling when the rich, salty, buttery scent of grain-filled sausage and the smooth avocado rings wrapping around it hits your senses. Even before you see it, you know you’re going to have a good time. You’re so engrossed in your upcoming food that you don’t even get the chance to smell Sora’s dish before it’s in front of him. It’s no less impressive, consisting of a butterflied, black-crisped spear of pork, flanked by the bisected and spice-dusted halves of an similarly grilled eggplant, all cuddled between two warm loaves. By the way Sora’s eyes are bugging out, he’s having a blast smelling and staring at his food, too.  
  
“Lessee, looks like I got it right! The _big_ sausage for the cutie, and the _other_ big sausage is for, well, the other cutie. Golly, that doesn’t help, does it?” Harley giggles, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Can I getcha anything else, boys?”  
  
You both shake your heads in tandem.  
  
“No, thank you, Miz Quinn!”  
  
“Really, this is great. Thank you!”  
  
Her laugh peters out into a smile. “Anytime, boys! Lemme know if you need _anything_ else! I’m sure you’re gonna be _hungry_ for more after this!”  
  
The wiggling of her eyebrows and the meaningful stressing of her words are lost on you and Sora, the two of your are already starting to tear into the bounty she’s delivered. With a roll of her eyes and a mutter of “Boys…”, Harley’s off, well aware that the four eyes that were fixated on her hips, waist and backside last time are now engrossed in a different sort of desire.  
  
That didn’t stop her from adding a little extra _oomph_ to her swaying, though.

* * *

  
You try not to belch, wiping your cheeks with your napkin, your plate absolutely wiped clean of anything edible. There’s nothing left but a few drops of grease: you made sure to mop up any stray flecks of rice or quinoa, any leftover corners of avocado for express delivery to your mouth. Sora’s food has similarly decided to disappear, but he doesn’t manage to hold in his burp, even as he covers it with his own serviette.  
  
“Looks like you had a good time, boys!” Harley’s back, and you barely get a chance to admonish Sora for his rudeness before she’s leaning forward, resting her hands on the table.  
  
“Can I getcha anything else?” At this angle, her biceps are pressing against her breasts, straining them even more against the front of her suit as they squish together from the pressure.  
  
“Jus’ the check? ‘Sall right, I get it. Here, I thought ahead, and lemme take those from you!” With unexpected speed, she slaps a black leather envelope between the two of you, scoops up the dishes, and walks off.  
  
Sora shoots you a querying gaze, and you hold it. In most situations, such behavior would have constituted unacceptable rudeness on the part of a waitress...but neither of you intended to file a complaint. Especially once you noticed the note scrawled on the inside of the payment folder.  
  
_Had a good time, boys? Why don’ we hav’ an ev’n_ betta _one? Meet me at th’ place listed right ‘ere, I got some surprises for ya! One of my buddies’ll take your payment._  
  
Yes, she’d written out the contractions in her text. Harley Quinn seemed to be weird like that.  
  
“I assume we’re splitting this, Sora?”  
  
“I’m broke.”  
  
“Liar. After the gig you just landed?” You needle Sora, and he cracks, letting out an exaggerated sigh even as he tries to hide his smile.  
  
“You’re right, you’re right. Here, let’s give her a good tip.”  
  
“I mean, if we’re going to see her, can’t we just give her the money there?”  
  
Sora pauses, his hand still in his pocket as he grasps his wallet. “Wait, you’re seriously considering going?”  
  
“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?”  
  
“You’re asking _me_ that?”  
  
“C’mon,” you plead, slapping your card onto the table. “It’s a great idea!”

* * *

  
“This is a terrible idea.”  
  
“Hush.”  
  
You and Sora had followed Harley’s directions to the letter: the given address was quite close to the diner, and you were standing in front of the door for the room of the apartment complex she’d specified.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
“Do I have a choice?” Sora mutters, but he doesn’t sound all that reluctant. His foot’s tapping and he still has that smooth confidence that tells you he’s relaxed, so you don’t retort and instead knock.  
  
“C’mon in, the door’s unlocked, puddins!”  
  
For a waitress, Harley had a pretty nice place: spacious and full of plush, expensive-looking carpeting and furniture. The television planted in front of the couch past the entryway was large enough to make you wonder how it stood upright, and an open door led to a kitchen.  
  
That immediately gave you pause. An apartment with a separate kitchen from the rest of the central room? Harley had more money than you thought. Then you remembered what she’d said about “spying for the Bat”. Perhaps Batman had hooked her up with some funds.  
  
“Howdy, ya’ll!” Harley hopped out from around the corner, still clad in the black-and-red number from before. “Glad ya could make it. Be a dear and close the door for me, wontcha?”  
  
You comply as Sora speaks up. “Um, thanks for inviting us, Miz Quinn. Is there anywhere I could hang my coat?”  
  
“Pfft. Jus’ toss it onta the couch, I’ll deal wit’ it later. Now c’mon, you two! Ditch the shoes and folla me, I finna show ya summat!”  
  
Sora blinks and you both stand there motionless. Harley rolls her eyes and curls her finger. “I _mean,_ ‘come wit’ me, I gotta show you somethin’. Honestly, dolls, I expected betta.”  
  
As you make your way down her hallway, you catch a glimpse of another bedroom other than the one at the end of the passageway, and Sora asks the question you both were thinking.  
  
“Do you have a roommate, Miz Quinn?”  
  
“Naw, I got tha room all t’ meself!”  
  
“Then, um, why do you have two bedrooms?”  
  
“Oh, that’s tha guest room. Usually it’s fer Red, when she comes ta visit, but she used ta live here, yunno!” Harley sighs wistfully, brushing a hanging point on her cap as if it were a stray hair. “Aw, Red. Why’d ya hafta break it off like that? ‘Least we still get ‘long.”  
  
A guest room. A separate kitchen. A massive television and expensive furniture. Whatever Batman was giving Harley, she was practically _rolling_ in valuable real estate.  
  
Before you can ponder these implications, you’re in her bedroom, watching her sally about until she’s between you two and the door, and then it’s shut.  
  
“Whew! Now that _that’s_ outta the way, lemme get down ta business.” Leaning against the door, she gestures towards her bed, motioning for you two to sit on the edge of it. You both remain standing, somewhat awkwardly, neither of you quite ready to sit on the bed of a woman you met less than an hour ago.  
  
Ignoring your blowoff, Harley crosses her arms below her breasts and pouts her lip. “Wit’ Bats, ‘sall business, all th’ time. I got no time for me _real_ self. No, not th’ _old_ real me, I mean th’ _new_ real me! Ya know what I mean, right?”  
  
You want to cry. You have no idea what’s going on. Harley may as well be speaking another language.  
  
“Wha? Neva heard an accent like mine ‘fore? Well, tough, not gonna repeat myself. Anyways, yeah, I’m the new Harley, th’ ‘good girl’. But Bats got a stick up his butt so deep that unless Catwoman starts pullin’ a strapon on him when they bang, the two o’ them are _never_ gonna get it out. I’m different, I got needs! I gotta have some fun _sometime_ , ya know what I mean?”  
  
Sora leans over and whispers to you, knee bouncing against the floor in anxiety. “I’m getting the distinct sense that this really _was_ a bad idea.”  
  
You angle your lips towards him. “I don’t think she’s paying attention to us. Just let her let it out.”  
  
“What, so we just let her run her course? I’d like to leave sometime this week, thanks.”  
  
“I heard that!” In a flash, Harley’s glaring at you two, and you shrink away from each other. “‘S rude to smack-talk a lady in her own home. Anyways, dolls, I’ll cut to th’ chase. I been running dry, and the diner’s been a good place to scope out sum buddies to help me cut loose. You two are th’ best I’ve seen so far. So whaddya say?”  
  
She angles her wrists slightly outwards, fluffing up her covered breasts. You _swear_ you can see the outlines of her nipples beneath her clothing…  
  
“Wanna help Mama out? You play nice, and Harley’ll treat you _real_ good, puddins.~”  
  
Your throat tightens...and your erection stirs beneath your jeans. Sora tenses next to you, his knee skidding to a halt.  
  
“Are you suggesting what I _think_ you are? Because if so…”  
  
“You’ll do it?” Harley cuts Sora off, white face beaming even brighter, eyes shining with joy beneath her mask. “Oh, I _knew_ I could count on two handsom’ pumpkins like yerselves! Here, les’ get goin’!”  
  
“Wait-”  
  
Too late. With a happy yowl, Harley raises a hand to clasp at what has to be a zipper buried in the white pseudo-collar of her suit and pulls down _fast_ , exposing the breasts you’d stolen glances at in the diner, and gotten eyefuls of during her fulmination. They’re just as perfect as you’d picture, full and round and perky, tipped with light grey nipples, swinging back and forth as she spreads the top of her suit to the side, the fabric resting between her armpits and her swaying tits.  
  
They’re glorious tits, and you and Sora respond appropriately. Her eyes dance between both your crotches, and you know what she’s seeing.  
  
“Oho! Looks like yer both some mighty _big_ boys! Why’d ya need ta order sausage when you got plenty o’ thick meat down there?” She reaches her hands forward, then pauses. “Why dontcha get ‘em out? Mama wantsta see what she’s playin’ with.”  
  
Your hands are scrambling to undo your shirt buttons and belt buckle, and Sora’s earlier protests seemed to have vanished as you can hear him doing the same. His is going to take a lot longer, what with all his extra zippers and such, so you draw out your disrobing to avoid embarrassing him by being done much earlier. You don’t know if he’ll notice, but that’s never stopped either of you from doing the right thing before.  
  
It takes some scrambling and grunting, during which Harley makes a big show of “Ooohs” and “Ahhs” and assorted anticipatory noises, but the two of you get down to your boxers soon enough. You’re feeling little undignified with your green-and-blue striped number, but at least you don’t have Sora’s Mickey Mouse underclothing.  
  
There’s a stunned silence, followed immediately by Harley bursting out in laughter. Sora’s face turns redder than Harley’s suit, but he stands firm as she wipes her eyes.  
  
“Sorry, sorry! ‘Snot, you doll, ‘s just...sorry, won’t bring it up again. Whew, I’m done, I’m done.” She fans herself and nods, looking you both over. “I’m impressed, I gotta say.”  
  
You’re glad she finds you up to par. You don’t have any extra weight (not exactly the hulk she’s probably used to hanging around), and you’re skin’s a touch paler than is likely healthy. You should probably get more sun, and maybe try to bulk up your limbs and stomach a bit, but at least you had some hair on your chest (and belly, and legs, and the rest of you). Compared to Sora, though, you still feel remarkably inadequate. As his face would suggest, your friend has the airy stance of a bird of prey, his muscles slim and smooth as a ballerino’s, even though you know for certain that he cannot dance _at all_. He’s got more of a bronzed look to his skin than you do, and you can’t help but feel inadequate. Everything you’ve got, Sora seems to have better: more muscle, but not too bulky; more sun exposure, but not too tanned, and certainly more graceful.  
  
Now you feel lanky and awkward and are getting the distinct sense that you should stop staring at Sora.  
  
“Tsk, tsk. Whatsa matta, puddin’? Don’t worry, you can tell mama _anythin’_.”  
  
There’s something about the way she _says_ “mama” that’s...getting you going. You let out a deep breath through your nose and consider lying, but decide against it.  
  
“To tell you the truth, Miz Quinn, I’m feeling inadequate next to Sora.”  
  
“What?” Sora precludes whatever response Harley had planned in favor of interrupting you. “Seriously? C’mon, don’t worry about it. It’s not a competition. And besides, you’re, uh...”  
He coughs and his words slip into silence. You’re quite certain he was about to say “hot”, as convincingly as he could, which wasn’t very persuasive. You don’t share his confidence, but are grateful for the support.  
  
“Aren’tcha jus’ the mos’ _adorable_ pals? Oooh, I can’t wait to see the cayoot faces ya make when ya pound inta me. Now, lemme see what ya got packin’!” Harley hops up and down, clapping her hands together and letting her breasts sway against her outstretched biceps. Your underclothes get even tighter, and you don’t need to turn over to Sora to know that he’s feeling the same way.  
  
Out of sync, you both hook your fingers beneath your own waistbands, bend forward slightly, and start to lower the only barriers between your dicks and Harley’s hungry gaze. Sora’s is slower, almost teasing and drawing it out like you had for your own outer disrobing, while you struggle and try to force the boxers off as quickly as possible. It’s not perfect, but soon enough you’re both naked in front of her.  
  
You tried really, really hard not to look at Sora’s dick. You’d never been in a position where that had been a possibility, but now that it was here you were finding yourself unable to keep your eyes off of it.  
  
The folds of uncut skin rolled back as Sora’s erection grew before your very eyes while you stood there transfixed, the foreskin stretching over the looseness created by its overlap to accommodate the growing thickness he was sporting. His cock was short and thick, the very opposite of his slender physique yet engrossing precisely because of that very contrast. The faint outlines of blue veins beneath the skin were barely visible, becoming more prominent the more erect Sora got. His nectarine-sized balls hung below, swaying as he straightened his back and shuddered at the lack of covering on his dick. Besides a tangle of slightly spiked hair above the base of his dick, Sora’s shaft and testicles were smooth and hairless, reflecting the yellow light of the room off of their shining skin.  
  
Sora coughed and you came back to reality, turning towards your own length. You were a little proud to say that, while Sora might have you beat in the physique and beauty department, you _definitely_ were packing more than he was. Your cock was also wide and uncircumcised, pushing past the layering creases of your loose foreskin. but that was where the similarities ended. You had girth _and_ length, extending quite a ways past Sora as your erection built to full turgidity and your balls were half again as hefty as his. Most notably, where Sora was bereft of pubic hair such that you might believe he had a swimmer’s wax job, you had dark curls extending down from your pelvis to your inner thighs, plus some small amount of hair on your nuts.  
  
It wasn’t a competition. And Sora certainly wasn’t underendowed. But it felt good to get this up on him.  
  
Harley’s eyes widened, and she took a step forward while fanning herself and whistling, her hat swinging to and fro thanks to the wind from her palm. “Wowee! This is gonna be more fun’n I thaught, pumpkins’!”  
  
She takes another step towards you, now within grabbing distance of your cocks. “Don’t worry, puddins’. Momma’s gonna take _real_ good care of you…” Harley’s gloved hands encircle both of your cockheads, the smooth fabric kissing the sensitive skin. Her fingers tap all along the thick tips of your dicks, trailing along the underside of your shafts, pulling your cockheads free of your foreskins as she moves her fingers down.  
  
Harley’s right hand flicks at the pubic hair scattered along your shaft, her pinky finger twirling a particularly long strand around it before going lower. For Sora, she lets her left hand tap and rub against his skin in lieu of playing with his nonexistent pubic hair, until she finally gets both her hands down to your nuts and squeezes.  
  
It’s a delicate squeeze, meant to assess the weight and heft of your respective nutsacks, but it’s still stimulation, and you both shudder and moan as Harley Quinn’s delicate fingers roll your testicles between them. You’re so engrossed in the sensation of Harley’s hand cupping your ballsack that you don’t notice her moving her mouth towards you until her breath is against your lips, and then you’re kissing Harley, feeling her hum around you in satisfaction at your compliance even as she keeps playing with your nuts. Her nostrils whistle and sigh as she sucks in air through them, lewdly moaning and purring around your mouth and wrapping her tongue around yours, letting you return the favor with gusto.  
  
She pulls off with a gasp and a flick of your tongue against hers, a promise that you’ll kiss again, before moving over to lock lips with Sora. He’s not caught unaware like you were, and leans into it, taking her mouth in his lips and biting on her bottom lip lightly. Harley squeals and retaliates with a nip on his upper lip, securing a hold with a smile between her teeth before releasing him to push forward into another kiss. Sora’s spiked hair presses against her forehead and hat, and you can tell that Harley’s getting aggressive, sucking on his face and pushing her tongue against his teeth.  
  
The lack of stimulation on your mouth lets you focus on Harley’s continued manipulation of your balls, the way she presses fingers into the folds of your scrotum before rolling it back and forth between both sides of her palm. Pulling back, she drums the two orbs with lightly flicks of her fingers upwards, and you grunt to voice your approval. Sora's own sack is getting the same treatment, jerking back and forth hypnotically above her fingers.  
  
Harley separates from Sora, letting the saliva mix between their mouths and drool down onto the carpet. It just now occurs to you that Sora’s likely gotten a good taste of your lips through Harley, but you don’t mind: that kind of thing is sure to happen during a threesome, right? Grinning, she flicks her eyes back and forth between the two of you. “Howzat feel, puddins’? Great, right?”  
  
“Y-yes!”  
  
“Fantastic!”  
  
“Good ta know.” She clicks her tongue. “You two taste great. But I’m bettin’ there’s summat you two got that tastes even _better._ ” Harley doesn’t pause, immediately falling to her knees with a _clunk_ on the carpet, your dicks now in her snow-white face, bobbing and yearning and desperate for her to do _something_.  
  
“I gotta heckuva sweet tooth, fellas. Thanks in advance for the treats!” Harley proclaims with a wide-mouthed grin before spreading her lips wide and taking the tip of your cock between her lips. It’s hard to keep your knees from buckling, she’s sucking so tightly onto the tip of your length, her fingers grasping and rolling up and down Sora’s dick, just to the side. The pressure and vacuum of her mouth on your throat is...a little more than you think you can bear, as is the sound of her slurping and slobbering all over your dick. Harley glances up at you and you _swear_ she’s grinning around your cock in between her lips as she widens her jaw and pushes forward, taking you down until you feel her tongue slip out and tickle your balls, flicking back and forth against your scrotum..  
  
Hissing between your teeth, you feel your thighs wobble as you struggle to hold yourself up. She’s just _too_ good at this, and it doesn’t help that she keeps winking up at you and moaning around the dick in her mouth. Finally, when you think you can’t take any more and are about to fall over or explode, Harley slips off of you, panting, only to immediately latch her fingers around the base of your shaft as she moves her mouth over to Sora, latching onto the head of his dick and giggling. He looks more terrified than he should, given that he has Harley fucking Quinn sucking his cock, but your focus wavers as Harley starts stroking your spitshined length, stretching and scrunching the loose skin wrapping around your shaft with each movement. She’s taking Sora’s cock deeper between her lips faster than she did to you, immediately gulping him down with _glucks_ and _glurks_ squelching out from her throat as the head of his shaft kisses the back of her tongue.  
  
Her hand’s rubbing faster now, squeezing more tightly around you with each speed increase, the heat and friction of her fingers grabbing your length and slamming against your balls too much. You’re starting to feel your end, and by how Sora’s just grabbed one of Harley’s hat-ends, he is too. The buildup is just too much, and Harley knows it, undulating squeezes on your length.  
  
You cum, your first shot tangling in Harley’s hand as she crests on the upstroke, foaming between her fingers, your second scattering across her forearm. The third flies out onto the floor, and whatever’s left dribbles out into her palm. She’s a bit preoccupied with Sora, though: while you were busy letting loose your load, Sora had lost control and pulled Harley forward by her hat, forcing her lips around the base of his shaft as he fired off what had to be a considerable nut down her throat. By the way her throat was bobbing around his shaft, though, you imagined that Harley didn’t mind. In fact, when Sora released her and she lifted her mouth off of his shaft, she was smiling and cackling.  
  
“Well, that was fun, boys! But I’m thinkin’ it’s time for tha main course, if’n ye catch my drift?” Licking her lips, Harley pushed the two of you onto the bed and stood, pulling herself up with her hands on your knees, your cum squelching and squishing against your skin from her grip.  
  
“Heya, spiky puddin’.”  
  
“It’s Sora.” He spoke with the resignation of a man who had been confused with other, similarly wild-haired men before. Sora was used to it.  
  
“Right, Spikey. Scoot onta the bed, I’m gonna need ya help.” Without waiting for him to reply, Harley shoves him until he’s all the way on the covers, his feet just barely avoiding hanging off of the covers. Turning, Harley crab-walked over towards the prone pretty boy until her butt bumped against his half-erect prick. Feeling his stiffness poke between her cheeks, Harley grinned at you and wiggled her ass against Sora’s dick, letting him harden up as her full, round, barely-constrained buttocks pressed around him.  
  
“Spikey, there shud be a zippa back thea. Mind if’n ya pull it down? Shud be jus’ above my pretty lil’ butt. Tho I s’pose there ain’t nuthin’ little ‘bout it, is there?” Harley laughed confidently, grinding her ass against Sora even more vigorously. You didn’t have a great view, but from Harley’s little giggles and Sora’s frustrated grunts, you could tell he was having trouble finding the zipper she was talking about...and poking her butt the whole time. Finally, you heard a _thwip_ , and Sora sighed in relief as he started to pull...something.  
  
The zipper was shining black, barely visible against her clothing, and Harley reached between her legs as Sora lost his grip on the tiny contraption. You thought for a moment that she was poised to play with herself, but instead she pinched the zipper between two fingers and pulled, spreading the fabric and revealing the skin beneath,  
  
It was as uniformly white as the rest of her body, but the skin was still flush with vigor rather than dried or parched-looking. And as Harley shifted the zipper up to its end, just beneath her belly button, you were treated to the sight of her pussy lips. Tight, puffy with arousal and very, very inviting, they were the light pink you assumed Harley used to be all around.  
  
“Well, boys? I call them the ‘fuck-me-zippers’.” She taunts, rubbing her ass against Sora’s now-fully-erect dick and spreading her legs, cunt quivering in anticipation. “Wanna make a Harley sammich?”  
  
The idea is too appealing to not go straight to your dick, and you’re stiff before you even penetrate her. As you push past her outer lips, you feel Harley slide back with you, spearing herself on Sora’s dick even as he cries out against the tightness encircling his member.  
  
Harley’s tight and hot and remarkably accommodating to your dick, even more than you’d suspected. She’s wet and ready, pulling you in and asking for more even without you factoring in how her thighs and clenching around your sides and her legs are wrapped around your back, keeping you buried inside her if you ever considered trying to escape. Which you would _never_ consider doing, of course, but Harley isn’t ready to take you at your word, even with your dick filling her.  
  
Speaking of words, Harley has plenty for the two of you.  
  
“Lay inta me, pumpkins’! Momma wants those cocks, an’ she wants ‘em _now_!” She cackles and swivels back against Sora, who’s doing a good job of keeping his composure given that he’s fucking Harley Quinn in the ass, her white backside pressing and pillow against him from the weight of Harley above him, and from you atop her. You imagine it’s an incredibly view, but you’ve got one to enjoy as well. Harley’s tits are swinging wildly back and forth, almost as furiously as the tails of her cap, sweat flying off of them as you bear down on her. “Gawd, yer splittin’ me apart!”  
  
“S-should we stop?” Sora stammers out, voice faltering, blatantly hoping that she doesn’t say no, that she doesn’t withdraw her ass off of his dick and her cunt from around your length.  
  
“Hell naw! Keep _fuckin’_ me, puddins~!” Harley gasps out, her back sliding up against Sora, pulling her head closer to his...and your balls closer to each other’s. When you first feel the heavy _thud_ of his nutsack against yours, you falter, unsure if you should keep going. Sora slows: he noticed it, too. You glance over Harley’s shoulder at him and he meets your eyes. You aren’t sure what he’s trying to say, but Harley stops you from communicating.  
  
“ _Please_ , fellas. I _need_ yer dicks! I’m yer bitch, use me, wring me out on those fat cocks, just _don’t stop_! I’m beggin ya! I’ll be yers, just keepin goin’, it feels so gud!” She whines and pleads, thighs tightening around you almost harder than her cunt and ass on yours and Sora’s shafts.  
  
You can’t very well refuse the lady. No, two upstanding young gentleman such as yourselves should be polite and follow her request. Namely, to fuck her into orgasmic nirvana.  
  
So you do so, plunging forward into her as Sora pumps his hips up against her, his pelvis smacking her ass as your balls clap together. The sensation isn’t, you admit with some shame, altogether unpleasant and you wonder if Sora’s getting as much out of his nuts pressing against yours as you are.  
  
Be that as it may, it’s not enough to stop Harley from letting loose a sound between a hyena’s cackle and a bawl as she grips your hair with one hand, Sora’s with the other, and pulls you close while her cunt and asshole clench and tighten around your dicks, quivering and moaning and generally reducing herself to a messy tangle of flailing limbs and spasming inner walls as she climaxes around your cocks. The two of you are fresh off of your last orgasms, but you’ll be damned if you let such a well-pleasured lady go without her reward. Pumping forward into her, you and Sora press in as deep as you go and let loose, balls resting against each other, tensing and twitching as pouring your cream into Harley’s hungry holes. Sora fills her rear with his load, the white fluid shooting off into the depths of her rear, almost too tight for him to get his nut out. You deposit your own seed into Harley’s warm, wet snatch, assured that regardless of which of her lower holes is being fucked, her insides are getting painted as white as her skin.  
  
Your thighs burn, and you can’t stop on her any longer, slipping out and off onto the floor with a groan and a _thud._ Unluckily for Sora, he’s still underneath Harley, who’s whiplashed back from mewling, desperate, helpless orgasm back into glib self-confidence. Giving Sora’s dick in her rear a final squeeze with her anal ring, she pops off with a grunt and rolls onto the bed, away from you. Her thighs have to be aching as well, but you wouldn’t know it from how she’s popping, kicking, and bouncing her legs against the covers like a bored student in class.  
  
“Aw, don’t tell me ya done, pumpkins!” Harley pouts, gaze flicking rom Sora’s sweat-drenched body to yours lying rather pathetically on the floor. “Cantcha get just one more load outta ya?”  
  
“Miz Quinn, we came _twice_.”  
  
“Yeah, what do you expect us to do, have magically refilling balls?” Sora grunts, chest heaving with exertion. He’s not looking that good, at least in terms of blood flow: his head’s all red, and his feet are looking a bit pale. Harley’s bed must be slanted, so perhaps falling off of it is a more common occurrence than your slip would suggest.  
  
“Ain’t nuthin’, puddins, but I can see that ya ain’t gonna get hard without sum help. Don’t worry, Momma’ll get you boys good n’ hard again! C’mere!” Kicking up, Harley leapt to the floor, cartwheeling and twirling until she was by your side, hoisting you up on weak knees, leaving you stumbling like a newborn giraffe. You almost don’t make it to the edge of the bed before you collapse again, falling next to Sora as he shuffles up, your two sets of legs hanging over onto the floor.  
  
Sora’s tired and sweaty, his hair matted and misshapen, cheeks heaving with his every breathe, eyes tired unfocused. And he’s so _goddamn_ so beautiful.  
  
“Aw, are the boys tired? Don’ worry, if ya lie up I promise I’ll give ya summat that’ll have ya rarin’ ta go!” Harley’s drawl brings you back to reality, and you reluctantly tear your gaze away from Sora’s angelic form to rise up to a sitting position, your abs protesting as you hear Sora join you upright. Harley’s kneeling before you two again, tits sweaty and bobbing as she sways them back and forth, her cunt glistening, the only hint of your deep creampie a small drop of white fluid falling onto the carpet. Her ass isn’t giving up even that small amount of Sora’s load: it’s staying right there in her rear, secure and warm inside her rear.  
  
Harley reaches her gloved hands towards your half-erect lengths, damp with sweat and cum and struggling to escape the now-resurgent folds of your foreskins. Her fingers enclose your lengths, and you and Sora groan and lean slightly into each other as your oversensitive lengths feel Harley’s gentle embrace.  
  
“There we go. Let’s jus’ get ya workt up a bit…” Harley bites her lower lip hungrily. It’s an arousing sight, but it’s going to take more than that to get you fully ready to fuck again: your length twitches and stiffens slightly, but not enough for her to get a good grip. Sora’s having the same trouble, although he’s steadying himself with a hand on your thigh. The contact is comforting, and you aren’t going to pretend that the weight of Sora’s fingers on your body isn’t doing...something to help you out. And they’re so close to the base of your length.  
  
“Heh. Lookin’ like one of ya’s got th’ idea, dontcha, Spikey?”  
  
Sora doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. He’s trying to focus on Harley’s hand working his prick, and she rolls her eyes. Even _that’s_ an enticing view: you could get used to Harley’s mockery turning you on, especially with that accent.  
  
“Well, if that don’t work…c’mere, boys.” She stands and takes a step back, dragging you two by your now mostly-hard lengths before plopping down back into a kneel in front of you, just as when she jacked and blew you at the start of all this.  
  
“I had a hunch ‘bout this. Lessee if it helps ya!” Without further ceremony, Harley shoves her hands together, mashing the heads of your dicks against each other, rubbing them over and against each other.  
  
You stiffen, both in your posture and in the rigidity of your cock. Sora’s hard too, his length gliding against yours, smooth and soaked in cum and sweat. You aren’t going to pretend that feeling Sora’s erection against yours isn’t enticing, if only because it’s so novel. You’ve never felt something so hard and throbbing, so perfectly a mirror to your own erection, rubbing against your cock. His balls swing and tap yours, and your breath catches in your throat.  
  
“Feelin a little somethin ya haven't before? Don’ fret, ya ain't the first ta feel this!” Harley teases, jerking your dicks as she rubs them against and alongside each other, the sheen of sweat and semen _shlicking_ beneath the soft grip of her fingers. Your mouth’s getting dry, what with how long you’ve been holding it open, gaping and panting. Sora’s doing the same, his face pink as he drools onto his chest, hand gripping your leg even tighter. It’d be so easy for him to reach over and wrap his own fingers around your length, joining Harley in pleasuring your shaft with his soft grip...  
  
“If Red was here...by golly, the show we could put on for you, or you two for us! Ooh, makin’ my knees quiva jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it!” Harley Quinn’s on a roll now, eagerly glancing between the two of you, flicking her tongue out to lick her lips or prod the slits at the tips of your cocks, biting her tongue and letting out lewd moans at random intervals, putting on as much of a show with her words and facial expressions as she can. Her ideas are taking hold: Poison Ivy’s incredibly alluring, and if she wanted to watch you and Sora try some things out with each other, that wouldn’t be so wrong, would it? Especially if she and Harley ended up tangled in each other. Maybe they’d lap at each other’s cunts, or bury their fingers in each other’s assholes, or squish their tits together to form the perfect hole to thrust your dicks between their chests.  
  
And you aren’t going to pretend that you _wouldn’t_ enjoy Sora’s hand on your dick, or maybe his mouth, or even his ass all around your shaft, squeezing and pulling out your load until you creampied his backside. Maybe he’d let you pull on his spiky hair while you draped yourself over him and whispered in his ear, blowing out his back with hard, fast, furious thrusts into his rear.  
  
If you were lucky, he might even return the favor and wrap you around that thick, hungry, appetizingly fat cock of his. You can imagine the scene.  
  
_You’ve just filled Sora’s butt with your load, emptying your nuts, but he hasn’t cum yet and is now hard and ready. He bends you over while Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn giggle and call out encouragement, and then he’s in you, spreading your ass around his dick._  
  
_“Yeah, dick ‘m down, Spikey! Howsit feel, banging ‘nother boys butt? Feels gud, don’t it? Better n’ mine, or naw? Don’ worry, I ain’t gonna be offended!” Harley hoots and hollers, whooping and clapping her hands._  
  
_“That’s right. Lay into him, leave him walking bow-legged in the morning. It’ll all be worth it, won’t it?” Ivy croons, her words weaving into both your ears and Sora’s, driving him to pump more fiercely into you, while simultaneously pushing you to accept his length filling your butt with an even deeper bend to your back._  
  
Sora’s voice catches, but it’s not behind you. It’s to your right, and suddenly you’re back in the real world, though it’s no less enticing. Harley’s hands are flying up and down on your dicks, slapping them against each other while she blows kisses at you. Sora meets your eyes, his face agape with pleasure and shock. He _had_ to be picturing the same thing, hadn’t he?  
  
“Though ye'd prob jus’ wanna fuck us, which is real fun soundin too!”  
  
Harley’s ambition is too much. You have brief flashes of what that would be like.  
  
_Of you slapping Ivy’s pale buttocks back and forth until they turned to a soft jade hue while you laid into her from behind, Sora doing the same to Harley. The calcite ass cheeks of Harley, flushed with a light pink, pressing against Sora’s pelvis while Ivy’s pillowed against yours, the two women tangling their tongues in each other’s mouths and egging you on._  
  
_“Yeah, lemme have it! An’ you, Red c’mere!”_

 _“Harley, you’re as insatiable as ever. And you, don’t you_ dare _stop. I’ve got an ex to make out with.”_  
  
The vision is enough. When you’re back to reality, you’re watching your length drape across Sora’s, your prick twitching against his own throbbing shaft. Sora tightens his grip on your thigh, and you both look down to see Harley close her eyes and stick her tongue out, her mouth wider open than you ever thought possible.  
  
“M’ shayin ‘Ahhhh’, ‘uddinsh!” You can barely understand her with immobile mouth, but you know what she’s trying to say.  
  
Your shaft erupts, firing ropes of cum across Harley’s already-white face. It blasts out into her forehead, draping over the eyehole of her mask and the bridge of her nose, hanging off of her hat and dribbling down past her chin and lips, pooling on her breasts. You aren’t sure what cum is yours, and what’s Sora’s, and it doesn’t matter.  
  
You’ve absolutely _painted_ Harley. Her face is a mess of what is now clearly identifiable as cum, streaming down her face, dribbling into her open mouth, the dregs staining the carpet and her clothes. Sora’s dick lets loose one last little spurt onto yours, and you pay him in kind with a slow drip of cum onto his shaft, the two chasers mingling into a soupy, cummy mess.  
  
Sora’s captivatingly gorgeous, messy and tired he may be. But the real winner is Harley as she blinks furiously and smacks her lips, taking large, loud gulps of air and laughing through the layer of cum coating her face.  
  
“So, who’s up for a spitroast? Spikey, you wanna fuck my throat, do a lil’ ass-ta-mouf? An’ you, pretty boy, you wanna try my butt out? First chance ya’ll get ta spear me on both ends, tho I promise it won’t be tha last!”  
  
Sora looks over to you, exhaustion plainly visible in the lines of his face and the missing luster in is eyes. You know you look the same way. There’s nothing you want more now than to sleep off this fantastic time and ponder some of the ramifications of what Harley’s foisted upon you.  
  
“An’ I promise I’ll brin’ Red next time!”  
  
But it looks like the two of you aren’t going to be getting that, at least not until after you spitroast Harley Quinn. It might take some going, but judging by how your libido is reacting to the promise of fucking Poison Ivy, you’ll yet bang her at both ends before the night is up.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! Looks like Harley's prompted some soul-searching from our two buddies. I've got two more commissions, and then one personal project before I take a break for a while.
> 
> If you'd like to follow me elsewhere, I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke) and [ Hentai Foundry](http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Lewdsmokesoldier/profile).


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